Five Versions of the Truth (and Nothing But the Truth)
by Smackalicious
Summary: Sometimes it's more obvious to everyone but the people involved that two people are in love. And sometimes, they finally figure it out on their own. Frasier/Roz. See author's note for more details. Rating to be safe.
1. Daphne

**Title: Five Versions of the Truth (and Nothing But the Truth)**  
**Pairing: Frasier/Roz**  
**Rating: T**  
**Genre: Het**  
**Cat: Humor, Romance**  
**Spoilers: None (so far).**  
**Warnings: None.**  
**Summary: Sometimes it's more obvious to everyone but the people involved that two people are in love. And sometimes, they finally figure it out on their own.**  
**Author's Note: So I have a beast of a story in the works, but needed to work on something shorter/happier &amp; someone had mentioned the type of story where it's told from the POV of a person looking in on a couple and I was like, I need to do a story like that for Frasier. So this will be like a 5 things type of story, told from different characters' POVs, with one final chapter told in a 3rd person narrative. It takes place sometime mid-series, when Niles is still married to Maris, but it may skip ahead by the final chapters. Kinda nervous because I haven't written Daphne or Niles THAT much (Martin seems a bit easier to write), so I hope they work okay! As always, I hope you enjoy. **

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I have a secret to confess. Oh no, it's not me secret, but it _does _involve people I know, and I'm not even sure _they _know!

I think Dr. Crane and Roz are in love.

No, not _that _Dr. Crane! I don't think they even like each other, let alone love. I mean me boss Dr. Crane, of course. And I know what you're thinking – "But Daphne, how do you know? They're friends! Perhaps it's just friendship you're seeing." And yes, I agree, they are friends, but let me tell you something – I just know. And you know how I just know? Because I'm psychic. And me psychic senses are telling me there's more to their relationship than just simple friendship.

Let me give you an example. I accompanied Dr. Crane, Dr. Crane and Mr. Crane to one of those fancy-schmancy balls they're always having for the radio station or whatnot, and when Roz walked in – looking positively smashing, as always – Dr. Crane went from fretting over his tuxedo and the inferior champagne they were serving (his words, not mine – I wouldn't know a bad champagne if it came up to me and said, "Hello, Daphne, I'm a bland and cheap imitation of what should be a delight to my palate." And perhaps I would know it then, since it came right out and told me, but then again, maybe I would _like _a bland champagne! I know I didn't mind the champagne we had that night, but perhaps all the bubbles just went to me head, too.) and what was I saying?

Oh, right! So Roz waltzed in and I swear on me Great Granny Moon's grave, Dr. Crane immediately stopped his grumbling and mumbling and just stared at her. The other Dr. Crane was discussing something with Mr. Crane, so neither of them caught Dr. Crane's staring, but I saw it and was intrigued. Yes, Roz is an attractive woman and no, it wasn't a surprise that anyone, including Dr. Crane, would notice her that night, but this went beyond an admiring gaze. It was as though the love of his life had walked in, like a princess entering the royal court in a fairy tale. His eyes lit up and suddenly it was as though all his problems had disappeared.

Of course he still found enough things to complain about throughout the night, because he wouldn't be Dr. Crane if he wasn't moaning about something, but when it came to Roz, he was a perfect gentleman. And Roz, well, she wasn't entirely innocent in the matter, either.

When she came up to us, I hung back, pretending to be interested in whatever Dr. Crane and Mr. Crane were talking about, but secretly listening in on Dr. Crane and Roz's conversation. Dr. Crane greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and she returned the favor – nothing unusual about that, because they are quite affectionate with each other – and then told her she looked beautiful and I swear she blushed! If it were anyone else, I wouldn't think anything of it, but Roz? She lives for compliments, and I know I've heard Dr. Crane tell her the same thing countless times without getting that reaction.

Later that evening, I watched them dancing together, something else I've seen quite a lot over the years, and something just seemed different about them. Their eyes sparkled as they gazed at each other, they couldn't stop smiling, and they even seemed to be dancing closer than usual. At one point I had lost track of them, as Dr. Crane – Niles, that is – had asked me to dance, but I caught sight of them exiting the room together, Dr. Crane's hand resting on Roz's back. They were gone for some time, then when they returned, they both seemed flustered, and I noticed Dr. Crane's bow tie was askew.

It doesn't take a psychic to figure out what they had been doing.

I didn't get a chance to ask them what they had been doing, and I'm sure they would have denied it up and down if I had, which would have only confirmed me suspicions. And I know that sneaking off for a quick snog isn't exactly a confession of love, but their behavior that night, and since then, has convinced me that they do, indeed, love each other.

Mark me words, they will end up together at some point. I can feel it.


	2. Martin

**Chapter Two: Martin**

You know what drives me nuts? My sons. I love Frasier and Niles, and they're brilliant men, but geez Louise, are they idiots when it comes to love.

Niles has been married to that icy toothpick Maris for far too long, even though he's completely head over heels for Daphne. If you ask me, he should dump Maris into a trash can somewhere and ask Daphne out. Sure, there's always the chance that things won't work out, but she's reasonable enough (when it's not related to my exercises, that is), so I think she'd at least give him a chance.

And then there's Frasier. I think he's even worse than Niles. He's been married twice, and almost married to Diane (I think that's one we're all glad he escaped), and since then, I'd call him a serial dater, but he doesn't really date that often, just spends most of his time moping around that he can't find a woman. He tries, but he tries too hard, and then he ends up getting dumped because he's moving too fast or he finds the smallest thing wrong with whoever he's with and decides he can't be with her.

Now, I'm no expert on love, but it doesn't take an expert to see where he's going wrong.

And the thing is, he could be happy, really happy, if he just sat down and took a look at his life, at the people already _in _his life. Because just like Niles is in love with Daphne, Frasier is in love, too. Not with Daphne, because that would be really weird and awkward, and I don't even think she's his type, but with Roz.

I know, it sounds crazy, because Roz is a lot more like me than she is like Frasier, but maybe that's what he needs. One thing I've always found interesting is how, no matter how full of himself Frasier gets, Roz doesn't let him get away with that crap. She puts him in his place, and the really crazy thing is that he actually listens to her. I don't know how the hell she does it, but I'm not going to question it. It's good for him to get knocked down a notch every now and then. And if she can do that and he still loves her, then that's the kind of relationship he needs.

It's not all one-sided, of course. Roz is harder to read, but I was a detective. I'm pretty good at reading people. I can tell she's hesitant, probably because she doesn't have the best track record as far as relationships go, and she and Frasier have a special relationship, so it'd be stupid to screw that up. And I get it, but she really shouldn't be scared, because Frasier adores her, and I can't imagine their relationship really changing _that _much if they wanted to start dating, except in the obvious ways.

Okay, okay, I can tell all this talking isn't doing much, so let me replay a scene for you from a few weeks ago. I had woke up in the middle of the night because my hip was bugging me, and had just taken a couple ibuprofen and was going back to bed when I heard all this racket out in the living room. I'm not as fast as I used to be, but as a former cop, I had to see what was going on.

I opened my bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway, and that's when I heard Frasier and relaxed. But I was still curious, so I headed out to see what he was up to. The scene I walked into was surprising, but also not at the same time.

Frasier was holding a very drunk Roz up and trying to get her over to the couch, but she was just leaning on him and not doing much in the way of walking. Frasier looked up and saw me and immediately insisted, "It's not what it looks like, Dad." Pretty interesting that he would say that when I hadn't said anything, but I wasn't going to question him about it. Not right then, anyway.

"I didn't say anything," I said, then shut up, knowing he'd start explaining everything. And he did. (Do I know my son or what?)

"I got a call from the bartender of the place Roz was at, letting me know she was way over the limit and someone should come get her because she wasn't even in a state to take a taxi home. Of course I wanted to know why me, and he said that was the name she told him. That and he looked in her wallet and found my card." Roz started to slide toward the floor and Frasier mumbled, "Oh, for heaven's sake," before sliding one arm behind her legs and the other behind her back and lifting her into his arms. He looked toward me and said, "Can you go open the door to my bedroom?"

I'm sure my eyes must have almost popped out of my head because he started freaking out in his classic Frasier way, yelling, "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Dad! She needs to sleep it off and I'm not leaving her out here."

I shrugged and walked back to his bedroom, opening the door. Clearly someone was feeling guilty. He followed, speaking quietly to Roz, though she was so out of it I doubt she processed any of what he was saying. Once he was in his room, he put her down on the bed, then sat on the edge of the mattress, brushing her hair back from her face. She reached a hand out to him and he intercepted it with his hand, holding it.

I felt like I was intruding on a moment, and I think he'd forgotten I was standing there, so I said, "You need anything else?"

Frasier didn't look up from Roz. "No, I'm good, Dad. Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't," I said, hovering in the doorway another moment, smiling at how gentle he was being with her. "Good night, Fras."

"Night, Dad."

I shut the door, but didn't go back to my bedroom right away. I knew I probably shouldn't, but I was curious about what would happen once they were alone. It wasn't long before I heard them talking.

"I'm going to be alone forever, Frasier! Just sleeping around with whoever, because no man will love me." It sounded like she was crying, but it was hard to tell, because her words were slurred. She was _really _wasted.

"That's not true, Roz!" There was a long pause, then, "_I_ love you."

I had to slap my forehead. What the hell was he doing, telling her that when she was _drunk_, when she wouldn't even remember it? Oh. Okay. Yeah, that sounds about right, now that I think about it.

"Oh, Frasier. Thank you. I love you, too. At least I'll always have you."

"Yes, you will."

I'd heard enough. Roz wouldn't remember this in the morning, most likely, but Frasier would. But I wasn't about to interfere. Frasier and Niles may be my sons, but they're also adults. Their decisions had to be their own, and after everything I'd just heard, I felt more confident than ever that Frasier and Roz were getting closer to the point of telling each other how they felt.

I haven't heard anything yet, but I can wait. What's meant to happen will happen.


	3. Niles

**Chapter Three: Niles**

After some careful thought and much observation, I've come to a conclusion. It's something I'm still having a bit of trouble coming to terms with, and part of me wishes it were not the case, but alas, it is what it is.

My brother is in love with Roz Doyle.

As you can imagine, this isn't something I would just admit to anyone, as Roz doesn't exactly fit into our social circle, and I can't say I even get along with her all that well – she seems to know just how to get at every one of my insecurities, and the brazen way she flaunts her sexuality certainly suggests some deeper issues. But I'm not here to analyze Roz, not in that way, at least.

Because while I am sure of Frasier's feelings for Roz, I am also fairly confident that she feels the same way about him. It's an interesting thing to witness, for sure, and relatively surprising, but not unexpected. These are two people who spend endless hours together, whether at work, working on work-related things outside of work, or just spending time together as friends. And a lot of that time they spend together happens to be at a place I also happen to frequent: Café Nervosa.

Most of the time when I come into Nervosa and see the two of them, I'll sit down and join them, but there are other days where I can sense I would be intruding on something, or where I'm feeling analytical, so I'll get my coffee and choose a table where I can see them, then hide behind a newspaper and surreptitiously watch. It isn't the most moral thing to do, but it isn't as though they are actually patients of mine.

Anyway, I've compiled some general notes from my time watching them, whether at Nervosa or somewhere more intimate, such as Frasier's apartment, or even social gatherings, like the SeaBees.

One of the first things I noticed was how, despite Frasier's aversion to casual hugging – something I completely understand; I have never understood why people find it acceptable to hug someone they barely know – he never objected to Roz hugging him, or hugging her. There is the obvious assumption that, well, he's a man and she is an attractive woman, but Frasier has always been averse to hugging. As a matter of fact, it seems Roz is one of the few people he hugs at all, let alone without complaining.

But hugs are a minor note, especially when you consider the sort of relationship Frasier and Roz have. Things started out professionally, with the occasional clash of personalities that is wont to happen with two dominating types, but over the years, their friendship developed into the type of which I find myself envious. Here are two people who, despite their differences, truly care for each other and not out of a sense of obligation. Something really shifted around the time Roz became pregnant with Alice. If I hadn't known better, I would have postulated that Frasier was the father.

Anyway, Roz changed a lot once she became a mother (she still insults me, but her comments are less biting than they once were, for example), and I noticed that the way she and Frasier acted around each other changed, as well. It was a subtle change, but still noticeable to someone like myself, who studies people's minds for a living. They seemed more comfortable with each other – not that they'd been uncomfortable with each other before that, but it felt like Roz had been a part of our family for much longer than the handful of years we'd known her.

Yes, I just admitted Roz is basically a member of our family. Because despite my initial dislike of her, she has grown on me, and she is clearly very important to Frasier. She may not be like us, but she cares about our family, and that's really what matters.

Roz may not be an official member of our family, but knowing her relationship with Frasier, that could very well change someday. And honestly? I'd be happy to see it happen.

Of course, if you tell her that, I'll just deny it. I can't give her the upper hand here.

In the meantime, I shall continue to observe them in the quiet moments, starting now. They're at their normal table at Nervosa, looking deep in conversation, so I'll just watch from the corner. I could be wrong about all this, but I doubt it. Some things are just . . . meant to be.

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_A/N: I just wanted to say thank you again to those of you reading (&amp; reviewing!). I appreciate it &amp; the next chapter is going to be so fun - get ready for the story from Daphne's chapter from Frasier's POV. :D_


	4. Frasier

**Chapter Four: Frasier**

I have a dilemma, and I'm not sure how to solve it.

I think I'm in love with Roz.

I never imagined this would happen, and I've had such poor luck with relationships that I hesitate to tell her, because despite the fact that we are just friends, she is the most important relationship I have with a woman. I'd hate to lose her. . . but the fact remains that I love her.

We've tested the boundaries of our relationship a few times, most recently at a black tie event put on by the station. Truth be told, though one might expect differently, I despise these events (except for the SeaBees, but that's about recognizing excellence in broadcasting, not faking niceties with people who are only trying to move up the ladder of success).

"This champagne is a bland and cheap imitation of what should be a delight to my palate!" I told Daphne upon trying the bubbly alcohol that had been thrust into my hand.

"I think it tastes like champagne," she said, and I fought not to roll my eyes. "I don't know how you can even tell the difference. It all tastes the same to me."

"Yes, well, when you've developed the palate for quality alcohol, you. . ." I forgot what I had been saying, as I turned toward the entryway and caught sight of Roz coming in. She looked breathtaking. It's not as though I hadn't realized how attractive she is, but that night . . . she looked incredible. She wore a flowing, floor-length burgundy chiffon dress and her hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders. Under the lights, she glowed like a literal angel.

She saw us and hurried over, a bright smile on her face. "Hi, guys!" she said, and I'm sure I must have been staring, because her expression turned questioning. "Something wrong, Frasier? Oh my God, is there something on my face?" She began to fuss with her purse, and I put a hand on her arm to stop her, giving her a reassuring smile when she looked back up at me.

"I'm sorry for staring, Roz. It's just that, wow, you look so beautiful tonight." I was sure I sounded like a love-struck teenager, but that was how I felt, so I didn't mind telling her that.

She blushed a little and grinned. "Thanks, Frasier. You look pretty handsome yourself." She reached up and tugged on my lapels, then straightened my bow tie.

"Am I satisfactory company now?" I asked once she was finished, and she smirked.

"You'll do."

"Shall we?" I held out my arm for her to take, and she wrapped her hand around it as I led her to our table. I almost forgot Dad, Niles and Daphne were with us, I was so lost in the moment. I wasn't sure what exactly had changed that I viewed Roz so differently now, but then again, it's not as though it was a sudden change.

Most of the evening passed uneventfully, as we mingled with people from other stations as well as KACL, and the enchantment I had felt when Roz had arrived began to wear thin the more I spoke with all these strangers.

"My God, can you imagine talking to people you don't know and pretending to be interested in what they're saying every day?" Daphne gave me an incredulous look, but I didn't ask what she meant by it, as I had noticed Roz was nowhere to be seen. "Did you see where Roz went?"

Daphne snickered in response, and I turned my attention back to her. "And what is so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. "It is just rather amusing how you have been fawning over her all night."

I straightened my jacket. "I am not _fawning_. I am simply trying to be a gentleman. Look at Niles. He's doing the same with you."

That made her think for a moment, then she finally nodded. "I suppose you're right, Dr. Crane."

"Thank you."

"If you're looking for Roz, I believe she went to get a drink." She pointed over towards the bar, and I had to groan to myself when I looked over and saw her talking to a sleazy looking guy. She glanced away from him and caught my eye, giving me a look that said, "Please save me," and my internal distress changed to satisfaction as I realized this was my chance to ask her to dance, something I'd been trying to find a way to do all night.

As I approached the bar, I could hear the sleazeball attempting to impress Roz by telling her all about his position as station manager's assistant at a competing station. Please, like he could compete with actual on-air talent.

I walked up next to them and slid an arm around Roz's waist. "Roz, honey, who's your friend?" I said, and she smiled up at me, quickly falling into the role I'd intended.

"Oh, Frasier, this is Jeff." She turned into me and rested a hand on my chest. "He's the station manager's assistant at KPXY. Isn't that nice?"

"Wonderful!" I said, and turned to Jeff, who looked smug.

"What do you do, _Frasier_?" he asked, and I had a hard time keeping a straight face as I answered.

"Well, I'm the host of the Dr. Frasier Crane Show," I said. "Roz didn't mention that? She's my producer."

Jeff started to shift uncomfortably. "Yeah, no, that didn't come up. So you two work together?"

"Oh, yes, we've been together for what seems like forever sometimes," I said, laughing, and Roz joined in, pressing herself against me slightly. I knew this was all a farce to get this creep to leave her alone, but I couldn't deny that I was enjoying said farce.

Jeff nodded his head and asked, "But you just work together, right?"

I looked at Roz and the look she gave me said to just say something, so I hedged around it, knowing what sorts of rumors could get started if this guy went around telling everyone we were an item. "Well, we don't exactly advertise it, but. . ."

"Oh, shoot," Roz interrupted, and I let out a relieved breath. "I promised the babysitter I'd check in with her."

Jeff's expression changed dramatically. "You have a kid?"

Roz gave him an innocent look. "Did I forget to mention that? Oops."

"You know, it was nice to meet you, but I don't think this is going to work out," Jeff said, and I almost cheered when he grabbed his drink and walked away from the bar.

Roz grabbed her own drink once he'd left. "If I had a dollar for every time that's happened," she muttered, taking a long drink before turning back to me. "Sorry for making you come over here and pretend to, you know."

I shrugged. "I didn't mind. I'd been looking for you, anyway." She raised her eyebrows at me. "I was wondering if you wanted to dance."

She smiled over the rim of her glass. "You wouldn't be hitting on me, would you?" I opened my mouth to answer, but she continued before I could. "Oh, wait, we've been together for what seems like forever, so you don't have to hit on me, right?" Her smile grew and she started laughing, and I couldn't help but smile along with her.

"Touché," I said, then held out my hand.

She hesitated for a split second and I was sure I'd made a misstep, but then she placed her hand in mine and I felt the most delicious spark at that small touch, and when she looked up and met my gaze, I was sure she had felt it, too.

I felt like we were floating as we made our way to the dance floor, joining other couples as they waltzed to the music, Niles and Daphne among them. I smiled and nodded in their direction, Roz following my gaze.

"Do you think he'll ever tell her how he feels about her?" Roz wondered aloud, and I suddenly felt as though my heart would burst from my chest, it was beating so hard.

"You don't think she can tell? He's rather obvious about it." I managed to keep my cool, but it wasn't easy to keep my own feelings to myself.

She threw back her head and laughed that throaty laugh I've grown to love. "Are you serious? I've never met someone so oblivious in my life."

"Hmm. Perhaps you're right. But maybe one day he'll get the courage to tell her. It'd be a shame if she never found out."

"If someone was in love with me, I'd want to know," Roz said, and again, it was all I could do keep quiet.

Instead, I smiled. "It would take an idiot to be in love with you and not tell you, Roz."

Her smile lit up her face and made my own smile even wider. "Thanks, Frasier. Are you sure you're not hitting on me?"

I suddenly felt very bold and asked, "What if I was?"

She appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, then said, "I'd be flattered. I didn't think I was your type."

I scoffed. "Beautiful women are always my type," I said, and I could tell from her reaction – how she bowed her head and shook it slightly – that she was, dare I say, embarrassed by the attention? That was definitely a side of Roz I wasn't used to seeing, but it made her all the more charming to me.

She looked up after another moment. "I'm feeling a little warm. Do you want to step outside with me?"

The look in her eyes suggested she was looking for more than a cool breeze, and I found myself nodding my head and following her to the door, my hand resting on her back as we went.

I inhaled a deep breath as we stepped outside, the crisp evening air filling my lungs. "I hadn't realized how stuffy it was in there," I said, making sure to keep things casual in case I had misread Roz's signals. She didn't respond, though, and I looked over to make sure she was listening. "Are you okay, Roz?"

She was leaning on a railing, not looking at me, and after I asked that, it was like I had flipped a switch. She pushed herself off the railing and practically threw herself at me, pulling my head down so she could kiss me.

I found myself wrapping an arm around her back to hold her up and returning the kiss fervently. We'd kissed before, that time in Nervosa, but that was nothing compared to this. I wasn't sure if it was the kissing that had changed or us, but I knew something was different and it wouldn't take much at this rate before we'd be ripping each other's clothes off.

So, as much as I was enjoying myself, I knew I'd enjoy myself much more without getting arrested for public indecency, and pulled away from the kiss.

Roz's eyes snapped open and she looked at me. "What? What's wrong? Oh God, I knew I shouldn't have kissed you. . ."

"No, no, that's definitely not it," I assured her, reaching out and placing my hands on her arms. "There is nothing I want more right now than to finish what you started."

She reached out and fingered the buttons on my shirt – which was very distracting, let me tell you. "Then why did you stop?"

"I didn't think it would be appropriate if someone caught us making out and half-dressed," I said, and that made Roz smirk.

"Boy, you sure have a high opinion of yourself," she said, and I gave her a pointed look.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but that is where we seemed to be headed."

She grinned, and just that smile was enough to make me smile. "You're not wrong."

"Then you see why I stopped things. It's not that I'm not interested. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. But what you see as inappropriate, I see as an opportunity."

Now I was really curious what she meant. "An opportunity?"

Her smile turned predatory. "Yeah. An opportunity to show everyone you're not as much of a fuddy-duddy as they think you are."

"People think I'm a fuddy-duddy?" Perhaps she was just projecting. Because we don't share the same interests, she assumes other people find me boring.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. You're a radio psychiatrist who hangs out with his brother at a wine club for fun."

The nerve! "Well! I am sorry my extracurricular activities aren't as _physical _as yours!"

Her mouth dropped open. "You were the one who started hitting on me!"

"I wouldn't have been hitting on you if you didn't look so damn good!"

And I know now what a pathetic comeback that was, as far as comebacks go, but that whole exchange was just indicative of how things went with us – she infuriates me, but God, do I love that woman.

We stared each other down, as if getting ready for an actual fight, but rather than lash out with fists, we both reached for each other simultaneously, coming together in a desperate kiss. And I'm sure if anyone had seen us, it would have looked beyond ridiculous, but that was far from my thoughts at the time, as all I could think about was Roz's lips, her hands, her body. . .

But I found myself rudely torn from those glorious thoughts as the door opened and we jumped apart, not wanting to be found out.

A couple exited, laughing and stumbling, obviously suffering from the effects of too much champagne, and I felt my heart hammering against my ribcage as I looked back to Roz. She brushed some hair back from her face and licked her lips.

"Maybe we should go back inside," she suggested. "I'm sure everyone's wondering where we went."

I didn't really want to, but I nodded. She had a point. This wasn't really the place, and really, despite how much I was enjoying kissing her, we were getting into dangerous territory here. I care about her so much, and I know she values our friendship, but I don't know if she'd be willing to risk our current relationship to pursue something deeper. I'm sure she'd be fine with a casual fling, but then again, that's not being fair to her. I know she wants something more, but she just hasn't found the right person yet. And I don't want to push her into something she doesn't want, but I feel confident that I am that person.

But as I said, it wasn't the time to tell her that, so I just followed her back inside, resting my hand on her back.

Nothing else happened that night between us, but I know things have changed. The way she looks at me is softer, her hand lingers longer than necessary when she hands me a file and touches my hand, we've been spending even more time together outside of work than we did already.

I haven't told her the depth of my feelings for her yet, but I will. I'm sure of it. I'm just waiting for the right moment.

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_A/N: Roz is up next! Expect something similar to this chapter - some laughs, some emotional stuff. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Roz

**Chapter Five: Roz**

You know what sucks? I'm in a rut. Romantically, I mean. It just seems like every guy out there is a total loser, or else he's not available, or something.

Like he's your boss and best friend.

The last thing I wanted to do (or even imagined) was fall for Frasier, but here I am. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, and I don't even know if it's because I'm so sick of what's out there and he's always so great and supportive and such a good friend or if I just legitimately want to be with him.

I mean, I can't deny that there's some sexual tension between us, but maybe that's just because we haven't slept together. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to jump into bed with him just to see if the tension goes away (not that I'm not interested, but that's beside the point) because I actually value our friendship too much to risk it by changing it. That makes sense, doesn't it?

It does seem kind of unlikely, but Frasier really is my best friend, and he's so important to me. I can't imagine my life without him. Sure, he's a pompous ass and drives me nuts half the time, but I still love him!

And yes, I do mean that kind of love. I'll admit it. And you know when I knew for sure? A couple weeks ago.

I'd just had another horrendous date, and after a long week of pure stupidity, all I wanted to do was get so drunk I'd forget I was even a person. So I called my babysitter and begged her to watch Alice overnight, because I knew I wasn't going to be in any shape to be responsible for a child. And no, it's not the most mature way to handle a situation, especially when you have a small child at home, but sometimes you just need to let go.

I ended up at this quiet bar that was mostly empty, and I was extra glad for that. The last thing I wanted to deal with was some idiot trying to pick me up. And if some guy _did _try to pick me up, he was going to regret it.

So I just started drinking, and thinking about how pathetic my life was, and of course my thoughts turned to Frasier and what my feelings for him were. That just made me even _more _depressed and before I knew it, I was sobbing into my whiskey sour. That's when the bartender came over and said I'd had too much to drink, did I have someone who could come pick me up, and even though I wasn't sure I wanted him to see me like this, I knew there was only one person I wanted to see right then.

Frasier.

I was too upset to give him Frasier's number, so I just motioned at my purse, not even caring that I was giving some total stranger permission to paw through it and take all my money if he wanted. He didn't, though, just found my wallet and Frasier's business card, then stepped away to make the phone call.

I wasn't sure how long I was sitting there and I thought maybe the bartender had called the cops instead of Frasier, but then I heard his voice and it almost made me feel better, but I was so lost in my misery that I could only keep crying.

"Oh, Roz, honey, what's wrong?" he said, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and that just made me cry harder. He could have told the bartender to call a cab, but he came down here, just to make sure I was okay.

I shook my head. "I'm a loser, that's what's wrong! It's a Friday night and I had to have my boss come pick me up at some bar because I'm too drunk to drive home!"

He gave me a hug and I tried to lose myself in his arms, and I could feel the rumble in his chest when he spoke. "I'm not just your boss, I'm your friend." He pulled away and made me look up at him. "And that means I want to make sure you're okay. Now come on, I'm taking you home with me."

Suddenly I could think clearly and I felt my cheeks grow warm at what that sentence implied. "Frasier. . ."

He kept talking like I hadn't said anything. "I'm not leaving you alone, and you're in no state to take care of Alice right now, even if she is sleeping." He waited until I looked back up at him before continuing. "Though I'm pretty sure you've already thought of that."

I'm not sure how he does it, knows what I'm thinking so well, though maybe it comes with being a psychiatrist. I just nodded and wiped at my face. "I'm sorry I made you come down here. You're so good to me and I don't deserve you at all."

"Nonsense," he said, and rubbed my back. "This is what friends do. You'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?"

"You wouldn't be crying in a bar over your pathetic life," I said, and he laughed at that.

"A fair point, but the sentiment is still the same." He looked over to the bartender. "Is everything taken care of here?"

"Frasier!" I already felt embarrassed enough that he had to come down here to rescue me; I didn't need him paying my tab, too.

But the bartender just nodded. "Yeah, we're all good here," he said, and I almost collapsed in relief.

"Well, then, it's settled," Frasier said, putting on an air of cheerfulness. "Let's get out of here." He kept his arm around me as he guided me out of the bar. I was a little buzzed, but not really drunk. I've been around my share of alcohol, and I'm from Wisconsin. We know how to drink.

As soon as we got settled in Frasier's car, he turned to me. "I know you're not as drunk as you're pretending to be, but I know what Dad's going to think if I come home in the middle of the night with you."

I wasn't really sure how to respond to that, so I stayed quiet. Part of me wanted to ask what was wrong with Martin assuming something sexual was going on between us, but the part of me that was crying over her drink a few minutes ago thought of all the bad things that would happen if I said that, how Frasier just felt sorry for me and I would just make things even more awkward if I said something like that, so instead I said, "So you want me to pretend I'm wasted?"

He shrugged. "It's really up to you. I just know how Dad gets and I don't want him needling you over something that's not even happening."

My mouth felt dry at his words and all I could do was nod. Frasier smiled and rubbed my shoulder, then we were headed to his apartment.

As we were driving, I kept thinking about all the different ways this could play out, or what I wanted to happen. I was tempted to just say screw it and seduce him, because it would be so easy and hell, that's what comes naturally to me, but like I said, I wasn't drunk enough that my sense of reason was impaired, so I did the smart thing and played along with the charade.

As soon as we got to Frasier's, I laid it on thick, basically falling all over Frasier in my attempt to look as drunk as possible. Martin had come out into the living room pretty much as soon as we entered the apartment, so I was glad I was prepared.

"It's not what it looks like, Dad," Frasier said, and that only served to make Martin even _more _suspicious.

"I didn't say anything," he said, then appeared to be waiting for Frasier to explain. And he did, going on about how the bartender called him, etc. etc. I was getting tired of listening to him and worried that Martin would catch on to the farce, so I acted like I was falling down, and Frasier muttered something and picked me up.

Yes, he literally picked me up and carried me to his bedroom, but not before yelling at his dad to keep his mind out of the gutter. Things were getting fun now, so I decided to nuzzle his neck a little, make him uncomfortable, and he leaned in, lowering his voice so Martin wouldn't overhear.

"If you think that's funny, I will drop you right now," he muttered, and I smirked to myself.

"No you won't," I said. "What would your father say?" I knew I had a point, and he grumbled before we made our way through the bedroom door and he put me down on the bed.

Martin was still standing in the doorway, so Frasier reached over and ran his hand over my head a few times, and I know it was probably just for show, but it made me all emotional again and I reached out for him and he grabbed my hand.

I mean, you know how it is when you start crying and then you stop, but then you start crying again like 10 minutes later? That's how I was that night, and once Martin left, that's when I really let the waterworks go.

"I'm going to be alone forever, Frasier! Just sleeping around with whoever, because no man will love me." I didn't even care how that sounded – like I was begging for pity or wanting him to say otherwise, but I was so emotional that I couldn't stop talking if I wanted to.

"That's not true, Roz!" he insisted, squeezing my hand. There was a pause that seemed to last for ages, then finally he said, "_I_ love you."

If I hadn't already been crying, that would have made me start. I'm sure he just meant it from a friend standpoint, but it was just so sweet and I didn't know what to say, but I finally found some words.

"Oh, Frasier. Thank you. I love you, too. At least I'll always have you." The words felt inadequate, but I hoped he heard the sincerity in my voice and knew it was the truth.

"Yes, you will." He squeezed my hand again, then changed the subject. "Did you want something more comfortable to sleep in? I'm sure anything I have will be far too large for you, but I can't imagine that would be a problem for sleeping."

I shook my head, not wanting him to feel like I was taking advantage of him anymore than I felt I already was. "No, no, you don't have to do that. I've slept in my jeans more than once, I can do it again."

"Are you sure?" He gave me a teasing smile. "I'm sure I have a KACL t-shirt somewhere that is just screaming your name."

I bit my lip. The thought of wearing one of Frasier's t-shirts felt super domestic and very relationshippy, and the idea of that really didn't bother me as much as make me wonder how far I could push things. And if he wanted me to wear one of his shirts. . .

"Well, if you're sure it's no bother," I finally said, and Frasier laughed, standing and making his way to a dresser on the other side of the room. I propped myself up on a shoulder to watch him as he spoke over his shoulder.

"Please, I want you to be comfortable," he said, and after a few moments of rummaging around, pulled something out and shut the drawer, then turned back to me. "Here. Nice and soft. Perfect for sleeping."

He handed me the shirt and I instinctively held it up to my nose and inhaled deeply. "Smells like you," I said without thinking, then realized what I said and froze.

But Frasier didn't comment on it, just said, "I suppose I could find you some bottoms to go with that. . ."

"Oh, please, this should be long enough to cover anything you don't want to see," I said, smiling to show I meant it as a joke. I walked into the bathroom before he could respond, wondering what I was getting myself into, wearing Frasier's shirt, sleeping in Frasier's bed, _with _Frasier. But I relaxed when I thought about Frasier – he wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do. I could count on him to not take advantage of me.

The only question now was whether I could control myself to not do the same to him.

I closed my eyes and shook my head free of the thought, telling myself to just forget about it, we're friends, very _good _friends, and so what if I fell asleep in his arms tonight? Would that really be such a bag thing?

I realized I'd been dawdling and quickly got undressed and slipped the t-shirt over my head, appreciating the roominess of it. It was definitely long enough to act as a makeshift nightgown, and I was satisfied with that, so I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, announcing, "I'm coming out," in case he'd decided to change himself.

He turned around and I saw he'd changed into a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was a little disarming to see him dressed so casually, even though I'd seen him in jeans and t-shirts before, and even though it was to be expected.

But what was really disarming was the expression on his face. It was like he was just noticing me for the first time, and he tried to hide the fact that he was definitely looking, but it was obvious he liked what he saw. The silence in the room was killing me, so I broke it with what I was intending to be a silly question.

"So, whaddaya think? Sexy, huh?" I said, striking a ridiculous pose.

"It certainly looks a lot better on you than it does on me," Frasier said after a moment, looking like he was having trouble not rushing over and ravaging me. It was driving me crazy, the sexual tension between us, but I knew I couldn't let anything happen tonight. This was entirely up to me, and I had to play it cool.

"Thanks again, Frasier," I finally said, walking towards the bed and climbing in under the covers. I took a moment to luxuriate in the insanely soft sheets and cushiony down comforter, letting out an appreciative sigh. When I looked back at him, I found him watching me with a look I couldn't quite place. "Well, aren't you going to join me?" Frasier looked surprised and I had to laugh. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch. We're adults." I may have said that last sentence just a little suggestively, but if he was going to look at me like that, I wasn't about to act like I didn't see it.

He hesitated, then gave in, walking towards the bed. "I suppose you have a point."

"And I know you wouldn't dare take advantage of me," I added, even though I kinda really wanted the opposite.

"Of course not," he agreed, nodding. He got in under the covers and turned to me, and I wasn't sure what came over me, but I just fell into his arms, and he must have been expecting it, because he didn't seem surprised by that at all.

I just let him hold me for what felt like hours, but I'm sure was only a few minutes, before I sighed and spoke. "What's wrong with me?"

He'd been resting his head against mine and lifted it away when he answered. "What do you mean? I think you're perfect just the way you are."

I rolled my eyes at that and pushed myself up and away so I could look at him. "Come on, Frasier. You do nothing by argue with me all day and now you say I'm perfect?"

"Well, I wouldn't change anything about you, that's what I meant," he said, but that didn't make me feel any better and I flopped back against him.

"I just don't get it," I said. "It's not like I'm not interested in something serious, but it just seems like anytime I am, the guy isn't, so it makes me wonder if it's not them and it's _me_." I felt vulnerable, so I buried my next words in his chest. "I have a daughter now. I need to stop acting like a college kid and settle down."

"That seems like the logical choice, yes, but it won't mean much if it's not what you really want," Frasier said, and I could tell he was slipping into Dr. Frasier Crane mode and wanted to stop him before it went too far.

"I just said I'm looking for something more serious. Pay attention." He chuckled and I wrapped my arm around him so I was hugging him. "You know any guys who aren't afraid of commitment _and _aren't complete weirdos?"

"Hmm, well, I'd suggest myself, but. . ."

I smacked him. "I said no weirdos." We both laughed at that, but his response made my stomach do a little flip. Did that mean he was interested in being that man in my life, or was he just giving an example? Well, I hadn't made it this far in life by being timid, so I was going to find out. "Seriously, Frasier."

"Seriously what?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not joking around. So maybe if you took it seriously. . ."

"I wasn't joking, either."

"What?" What? No, I had to be imagining this.

"As I was saying, I would suggest myself, but I know I'm not what you're looking for." He sounded . . . I don't know how he sounded. It sounded like he really believed what he was saying, in any case, and I knew I said I wouldn't, but I had to let him know he was wrong.

"What?" I moved so I was basically kneeling next to him and facing him. "How do you know that?" He opened his mouth to respond, but I decided I wasn't done and kept talking. "How do you know you're not exactly what I'm looking for?"

Frasier's expression changed. "You mean that, don't you."

And then, just like that, I froze, and retreated back to my safety net of 'deny everything.' "No, that was. . . That was me saying just that! You _don't_ know what I'm looking for because you're not me!" It was a pretty pathetic attempt to save face, but I just wasn't ready for this, even though Frasier had essentially been giving me a green light all night.

He leaned forward and put his hand on mine, and all I could do was look at him. "It's okay, Roz."

And then there those stupid tears were again, just when I thought I was done crying for the night. "l'm sorry," I finally said. I don't even know _why _I said it; it just came out.

He shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Absolutely nothing. Roz. . ." He smiled at me, the kind of smile that's both happy and sad at the same time. "You aren't ready. I understand. It's something I've been struggling with myself for some time."

I wanted to deny his claim, but as always, he knew me so well he would have known that was a lie. A part of me felt sad, but more than that, I felt hopeful, because I knew he felt the same way. I just needed some time to process this and figure out if I really wanted a relationship with him or just to satisfy some sexual curiosity.

"I can see you thinking," Frasier said after a few minutes of silence, and I looked back to him. He raised his eyebrows. "Anything you want to share? I'm listening."

I rolled my eyes at his use of his trademark phrase, then shrugged. "Just trying to figure out what I want, that's all."

Frasier nodded. "That makes sense. We have a close relationship, so the thought of changing the nature of that relationship is bound to be confusing."

"Like, I don't know if I just want to have sex with you or what," I said like I hadn't even heard him, and really, I hadn't even realized I said it until I focused on him again and saw him staring back at me. "What?"

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised," he said after a moment. "We've had a few close encounters."

I nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything. All I could think about right then was how we were already in his bed and how this was literally the exact right place if we wanted to go there, but. . .

"You're thinking about it right now, aren't you?" Frasier said, his tone dry.

"Well, can you blame me?" I wasn't even going to deny it.

Frasier sighed and I felt like I could scream. I just wanted to _do _something about it already!

"It's getting late," Frasier said, and his voice was a lot softer this time. He seemed to hesitate for a second, then said, "If you're interested, we could see what happens, just until we fall asleep."

"What, you mean kissing or. . .?" This was unexpected, but also very intriguing.

He shrugged. "Whatever happens, happens."

Suddenly I felt almost nervous. It wasn't like we hadn't kissed before, but that was different and this was for _real_. We'd had that moment a couple weeks back at the gala for the station, but that was all lust, and this certainly wasn't any different in that regard, but there was so much more to this. Frasier was basically opening the door for us to go there, to have sex if things got to that point, and that was just . . . a bit overwhelming.

But I couldn't deny I wanted him, wanted _this_, and this was the part of a relationship I did well, so I pushed my nerves aside and let things come naturally.

I crawled toward him, and the _look _he gave me, I could feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest, it was so intense. And _that _was the moment I knew – I was in love with him. I wasn't sure if I could tell him that just yet, but I knew in my heart it was the truth.

He reached for me before I got to his side, and then we were kissing, starting out slow and gentle and gradually getting more intense the longer we kissed, until I was on his lap and we were full-on making out. And _God_ is he a good kisser. I've been with my fair share of guys, so I've experienced a lot of different types of kissing, but Frasier was just . . . perfect.

I thought for sure we were going to go all the way, but the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and I discovered it was morning by looking over at the clock on Frasier's nightstand. I had to smile at the fact that I'd fallen asleep in Frasier's arms, and I rolled over carefully so I wouldn't wake him, because I wanted to look at him, make sure this was real, that this was actually happening.

I must not have been stealthy enough, though, because he opened his eyes shortly after I rolled over, and smiled up at me once he saw me. "Morning," he said, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Good morning," I responded softly, unable to keep from smiling back. "Sorry I woke you."

He shook his head. "Don't be. It was a wonderful thing to wake up to."

I could feel my smile growing and ducked my head, not wanting him to see what a dork I was being over his compliment. He reached over and brushed my hair away from my face, and I was thinking we would start this morning off the way last night ended, but before we could get that far, a knock sounded on Frasier's bedroom door.

"I don't mean to interrupt anything," Martin's voice sounded through the door, "but Roz's phone has been going off for 10 minutes straight and I'm thinking it might be important."

"Oh, shoot, my babysitter," I remembered, and stumbled out of bed, ready to just open the door and take the call, but Frasier called my name before I could get that far and I turned to look at him, sure he just wanted a kiss goodbye or something.

"You might want to think about changing back into your clothes so Dad doesn't get any ideas," he said, and I looked down at myself, clothed only in Frasier's t-shirt. He had a point, but I wasn't about to let him know that.

"What do you think I was doing?" I said, walking past him to the bathroom, where I'd left my clothes the night before.

I closed the door behind me and looked into the mirror, breaking into a huge grin as I stared at my reflection. Frasier! God, who would've thought? (Well, probably everyone at the station, but that's beside the point.)

I remembered the reason I was getting dressed and tore myself away from daydreaming long enough to get dressed, then ran my fingers through my hair, hoping it looked normal and not like sex hair, even though I'm pretty sure we didn't actually have sex. Pretty sure.

I exited the bathroom still thinking about that, and saw that Frasier had changed and was buttoning up his shirt. He turned after hearing the door open and smiled at me, and I just said what was on my mind.

"Did we have sex?" I asked, and I hated having to ask, but whatever happened between our make-out session and us falling asleep was a bit of a blur for me.

"You mean you don't remember?" Frasier said, and I felt my face get warm at his insinuation, but then he smiled. "No, we didn't. I would hope that I would be more memorable than that."

I growled and shoved him. Jerk. "I gotta go call my sitter," I muttered as I attempted to push past him, but he caught my arm before I could.

"We'll talk about this later, okay?" he said, and I just nodded, the gravity of the situation finally dawning on me. He gave me a tight hug then, and I closed my eyes as I returned it, feeling so safe and _loved_ in his arms.

I pushed myself away after a few minutes, repeating, "My sitter."

Frasier nodded. "I'll walk you out."

I got a hold of my sitter and returned to being Mommy Roz, while Frasier's words stayed in my mind. Like I said, that all happened a few weeks ago. We haven't made the leap yet, or really had a good moment to talk about it, but Frasier told me yesterday he wants to talk as soon as possible. I'm on my way to Nervosa right now, and I hope we can escape everyone else for long enough to figure out where we're going, because I've had time to think, and I know now that I'm finally ready for whatever comes next.

* * *

_A/N: That ended up way longer than I intended, but that's what happens sometimes when these two start talking, lol. And I realized I had a timeframe issue, so let's just pretend that Frasier's POV comes before this happened, which is why he didn't bring this up. Sound good? Okay. ;) One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading, as always. :)_


	6. Nothing But the Truth

**Chapter Six: Nothing But the Truth**

Roz walks into Nervosa, her attempt at nonchalance not working as she catches sight of Frasier sitting at their usual table and practically runs over to join him.

"Hi," she says, not really knowing what else to say.

"Hello, Roz," Frasier responds. "You didn't happen to see Niles or anyone following you, did you?"

She looks confused by that, furrowing her brow as she slides her purse off her shoulder and puts it on the chair between them. "Should I?"

He chuckles. "No, no, it's just that whenever I've wanted to talk to you, there's always been someone else nearby, so we haven't had a moment alone." He lets out a breath. "How are you?"

She shrugs. "I'm fine, I guess. But that's probably not what you're really asking."

He nods. "You know me well."

A barista appears at their table then, disrupting their conversation, but it's not as though they've really gotten far, anyway. Roz orders a cappuccino, then turns her attention back to Frasier.

"I've had time to think about it, and," she seems to have a moment of hesitation, or wanting to draw out the moment, make Frasier nervous, something, "I'm ready now."

Frasier looks surprised, but pleased, and it's all he can do to tamp down his enthusiasm – he is an adult, after all, and has a reputation to uphold. He reaches over the table to put his hand on hers, and is unable to hold back a very real grin. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm ready, too. For whatever comes next."

They share a moment of just grinning at each other like idiots, two idiots in love, which is essentially what they are, and they both miss Niles walking in the door. He doesn't join them, though, instead takes a surreptitious seat by the window, using the newspaper on the table as a shield to keep them from noticing – though by the way they're looking at each other, he thinks he could stand next to their table in the nude and they wouldn't notice.

Still, he watches them from behind the paper, trying to get some clue as to what they're talking about from their body language.

"We should probably take things slow," Roz is saying in the meantime. "You know, ease into being in a relationship."

"Right," Frasier agrees. "No need to rush things. No matter how much we may want to."

"Yeah. Right." A moment of silence passes between them, where they are both obviously thinking the same thing, then Roz speaks again. "But, you know, we have kissed before, so _that _would be fine."

"It would be more than fine!" Frasier agrees, happy to jump onto any idea that might lead to the bedroom faster, since that's where both their heads are right now. "I would say that if we _didn't _kiss, that would be a problem, if we are really in a relationship."

Roz laughs. "Yeah! And I mean, if things go further than that, should we really fight it? We're adults. It's not like we haven't done it before." She gives him a dazzling smile and he narrows his eyes playfully at her in response.

"I'd say, since we both have children," he said, and the mention of children seems to dampen their flirtatiousness and Frasier mentally scolds himself for bringing them up.

As they talk, Daphne walks in the door and, seeing them, turns to walk toward their table, but a voice hissing her name makes her stop in her tracks. "Grammy Moon?" she asks the air around her, sure she's hearing voices from beyond the grave.

"No, by the window!"

She turns to see Niles peeking from behind his newspaper and laughs merrily as she walks over to his table. "Oh, Dr. Crane! I thought I was getting a premonition from me Grammy Moon again." She looks over her shoulder at Roz and Frasier, then back to Niles. "Why aren't you sitting with your brother and Roz?"

"Because I'm observing them and I can't let them see me," he says, and Daphne's eyes grow wide and she motions for him to scoot over, then joins him on his side of the table, taking hold of one half of the newspaper.

"Why are you observing them?" she whispers, even though the coffee shop is loud enough where they wouldn't hear her speaking in the first place.

It takes Niles a few moments to recover from the fact that Daphne is sitting so close to him, so close they are practically touching. "I have a theory. . ." he starts, but before he can explain any further, Daphne gasps and grabs his arm.

"You think they're in love, don't you?" she asks, her eyes still as wide as when she sat down with him.

"Well, I, yes," Niles says, both trying to deal with Daphne touching him and that she thinks the same thing. "How did you know?"

"Oh, please, they are so obvious about it!" she laughs. "Did you see them at that gala a few weeks ago, how much of a gentleman he was being with her?"

Niles ponders her question, but all he can remember about that night is how Daphne looked, a vision of perfection in her soft purple dress. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I guess I wasn't paying attention." He's feeling bold, so he adds, "You looked rather lovely that evening, so you were a bit of a distraction."

"Oh, Dr. Crane, thank you," Daphne says, blushing a little. "You looked rather dashing yourself."

Niles finds himself staring at her, his expression dreamy, and Daphne looks away, peeking around the newspaper to see what's going on with Frasier and Roz. "They look rather cozy with each other, don't they?" she says, and Niles peeks around the other side of the paper to see what she's talking about.

Over at their table, Frasier and Roz have continued their conversation and it's obvious to anyone watching them that there's nothing else to either of them at that moment than each other. Frasier says something to Roz and shrugs, a smile on his face, and in response, Roz rises from her chair, only to move a chair closer to him. He says something else to her and she laughs, then leans in closer to him, meeting him as he does the same, and they share a kiss, not too long or too passionate, just enough to let anyone watching know that they are a couple and they are in love.

Daphne's face lights up at the sight of the kiss and she turns to Niles, excited. "Did you see that? We were right! Nobody just casually kisses in public like that unless they're in love! Oh!"

She's so excited she does the first thing that comes to mind and grabs Niles, planting a big, wet kiss right on his lips. Niles is surprised, for sure, but recovers quickly, returning the kiss, until Daphne seems to realize what she did and pulls away from him, her cheeks burning.

"Oh, Dr. Crane, I'm sorry!" she apologizes, holding a hand to her mouth. "I guess I just got so excited that I. . ."

Niles just smiles. "No need to apologize, Daphne."

"Is that my brother's voice I hear?" Frasier's voice suddenly intrudes on their conversation, and Niles and Daphne simultaneously lower the newspaper to reveal Frasier and Roz standing on the other side of their table.

"Frasier! Fancy meeting you here." Niles gives him a nervous smile, which isn't fooling anyone, but attempts to cover their tracks, anyway. "Daphne and I were just. . ."

"Spying on us?" Frasier finishes, giving him a pointed look.

Niles hedges the accusation, shaking his head. "No, no, not quite. . ."

"I can see the blood beginning its slow descent through your nostrils, brother," Frasier says, and though he's speaking metaphorically, Niles still reaches a hand up to his face.

"Well, perhaps if the two of you were not sneaking around, I would not have to resort to cheap tactics like watching you from afar," Niles finally says, feeling proud of his comeback. "And leave Daphne out of this. I saw her come in and got her attention before she could interrupt the two of you."

"Very well then," Frasier says, while Roz catches Daphne's gaze and rolls her eyes. The dramatics they put up with. "Perhaps you would like to elaborate on what you mean by us 'sneaking around.'"

Niles straightens up and prepares to launch into a speech. "It has come to my attention that the two of you have been acting more affectionate than usual with each other of late, and after some careful consideration, I've come to the conclusion that. . ."

"You're in love!" Daphne blurts out, and Niles gives her a stern look. She ignores him, though, so impassioned she is by what she's saying. "You can deny it all you want, but we all know. . ."

"You're right," Frasier interrupts, his voice soft, and even Roz seems surprised by that. He looks over at her, smiling, and it's only then that Niles and Daphne notice he's had his arm wrapped around her waist the entire time they've been standing there. "We weren't 'sneaking around' as much as trying to decide where we wanted to take things, though." Roz nods and he turns his attention back to Niles and Daphne.

They seem to be in shock, until Daphne recovers and grins at them. "Well, then let me be the first to congratulate you!" She stands, giving Roz a hug, while Frasier and Niles stare each other down.

"Hmm, yes, I suppose congratulations are in order," Niles says, trying to appear aloof, but Frasier sees through it.

"Thank you," he says, returning his hand to Roz's waist once she and Daphne separate.

A somewhat awkward silence falls among the group, then, as nobody is quite sure what to say next, until they find themselves interrupted by another familiar voice.

"Hey guys, I thought I might find you all down here." They turn to look at Martin, who's just arrived. "What's going on?"

Frasier turns his attention to Roz again, the expression on his face very much one of a man in love. "Funny you should say that. . ."

**THE END!**

* * *

_A/N: And that's it! Thanks again to everyone who read, and my long Frasier &amp; Roz fic is back on, so expect the first chapter of that to happen once I think of a title, lol. _


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